Embracing the Darkness
by Belladonna999
Summary: Blind Mag's aversion to her bondage to GeneCo has been growing. When she catches the eye of a certain Largo womanizer on a night of denied sexual pleasure, she finds herself teetering on the edge of desperation. Add Luigi into the mix and chaos ensues.
1. Denied

GeneCo's newest SurGEN had been the object of Pavi Largo's desire for over a week - longer than he usually waited to get what he wanted.

Now he stood, barely ten feet away, watching the svelte blonde finish up her last surgery for the day. He debated whether or not to take her face when he had finished fucking her. The thought of it sent a rather unpleasant smile stretching across the lips of Pavi's stolen face.

The SurGEN's short dress rode further up her smooth, perfect hips as she straddled the lap of her last customer, brandishing a syringe of zydrate. Pavi observed her with a shiver of anticipation. She would surely be waving her customer out the door in five minutes, then Pavi could sweep her into the supply room not two feet from where he was standing. Five minutes would be all he would have to wait -

"What the fuck are you grinning about?"

Pavi grudgingly came out of his fantasy and turned to see his brother, Luigi, glaring at him with furious eyes,

"You were supposed to be in the limo ten fucking minutes ago! We have a family appearance to make at the opera - "

"I have-a some _business_ to attend to, brother." Pavi did not take his eyes from the SurGEN as she walked her customer to the door. Luigi's face was beginning to turn purple with rage. He hated being ignored and would most likely start destroying whatever was within reach if an intervention was not made.

Pavi reluctantly followed his brother out to the Largo limo. Disappointment and sexual frustration threatened to supersede the middle Largo brother's usually flippant and nonchalant persona, but he did not let this inner conflict manifest itself on his perfect face.

Pavi stepped into the limo after Luigi, ignoring the look of disgust on Rotti Largo's face as his sons climbed in and found their seats. Amber Sweet, the third and youngest of the Largo brood was already in the limo, whining about her latest surgery. Rotti cut her off, raising his voice to drown out hers.

"I ask but one thing of you all tonight - behave. Just smile for the cameras and don't cause a ruckus. I don't want to find pictures of tonight's escapades on my desk tomorrow morning," Rotti instructed, his jaw tense.

"Yeah, yeah." Luigi absent-mindedly muttered his assent as he toyed with a switchblade knife.

"But Daddy, you know I hate Mag. Why do you make me go to her shows?" Amber complained shrilly.

"This is for publicity, not for our listening pleasure. You know that," her father replied wearily, his exasperation beginning to show through his calm visage. Suddenly his gaze sharpened.

"Pavi?"

When the middle Largo looked up innocently, Rotti narrowed his brows.

"No disgraces tonight?"

"But of course-a not, father," Pavi replied, feigning incredulousness. Inside he was seething at having been denied his passionate moment with the SurGEN, but he did not show his anger openly - that simply was not Pavi's style.

"Saw you eyeing up that SurGEN," Luigi muttered to his brother once Rotti's attention was diverted. "Fucking is all you're good for," Lugi chuckled derisively. Pavi shrugged in reply, smirking slightly.

"You should-a do it more often, brother. It might-a help tone down that temper of yours."

For once, Luigi could not produce a fitting retort. He struggled to come up with a comeback until his eyes bulged, the telltale sign of an incoming explosion. Luckily, it was too late - the Largo limo came to a halt outside the opera house. Rotti shot a look at all of his children before stepping out of the car. His message was clear: _ Don't fuck this up._

Amber was next out of the car, strutting toward the theater doors as if she was the star of the opera. Luigi was next, all traces of anger vaporized by a fearsomely joyful smile to appease the flashing cameras. Finally Pavi stepped out of the limo, hoping the opera would not drag on tonight.

Pavi found his seat between two GENterns, he eagerly accepting the attention they showered upon him. The women giggled and murmured to him, soft lips brushing his ear. Prickles of lust trailed down Pavi's spine and he quickly glanced around for some secluded place he might whisk these ladies off to for but a moment before the opera started - anything to satisfy the tension building in his groin. There! Just beyond the last row of seats was a coat closet. However, no sooner had he stood up than the lights dimmed, signaling the beginning of the opera. Rotti glared at his middle son - the only one in the room still standing. After hesitating only briefly, Pavi sank back down into his seat, a low groan emitting from his throat.

The GENterns noticed the bulge in his pants and tittered, reaching gloved hands toward his aching manhood.

"No," Pavi growled, grabbing their wrists in a viselike grip. The GENterns were frightened at this sudden change of character. With little sighs of disappointment, they turned to face the stage, full red lips set in pouts.

As the crimson curtains parted, every eye was drawn to the pale figure emerging before the audience.

Blind Mag had always been beautiful, had always been elegant. Tonight, however, she sent her previous records flying off the charts. Mag wore a long, trailing white dress - an odd costume, considering she usually dressed in dark, rich hues. Glittering crystals had been sown into the form-fitting bodice of the dress, making Mag's whole torso sparkle nearly as much as her bionic eyes.

When she began her song, the bewildered audience could not have pulled their gazes from her if they wanted to - wide-eyed stares locked on to the glowing angel who seemed a drastic contrast to the licentious society everyone had grown accustomed to surviving in.

But no one was so intrigued as Pavi Largo. Tonight, Mag was the very picture of purity and elegance - a rare jewel among today's women, rare especially among Pavi's typical sexual partners. The GENterns and the SurGENs were all the same, radiating a playful, erotic aura. Mag didn't. And that was why Pavi found himself so very attracted to her.

He wanted to take that purity, take it and shatter it. If the singer was as pure as she looked, she might even be a virgin, and that was a delicacy Pavi _would_ take possession of, no matter the means required to do so.

His eyes raked over her perfect curves, her porcelain skin. He could nearly feel his fingers knotting into the dark cascading waves of her hair to bring those blood-red lips crashing against his own. Yes, this was a woman who would be worth the trouble. Why hadn't he seen it before?

As Mag finished her song, the audience exploded into furious applause. Pavi used the noise to his advantage. Motioning for the GENterns on either side of him to lean in, Pavi instructed them on what they were to do.


	2. Trapped

Blind Mag strode to her dressing room like a robotic creation of the world in which she lived, not feeling the cool brass of the doorknob on her fingers as she entered her dressing room. Sinking down into the seat before her vanity mirror, Mag gazed at her reflection. The lenses of her famous eyes shifted in adjustment to the light, focusing on the pale face belonging to the Voice of GeneCo.

These eyes were useless to her now and had been so the moment Marni and Shilo had died. Mag felt no pride in her singing, felt nothing for anyone - not even Nathan Wallace, who used to be her one connection with the life she had once thrived in. Mag only felt disgust for the world in which she belonged, a world devoid of goodness and love and anything worth living for. Shriveling like a dead rose, society had become a superficial hell, with Death waiting just around the corner for anyone vapid enough to walk into his arms.

There was little Mag could do to break the never ending current of loathsome nothingness she was immersed in. Glaring at this hopelessness, Mag turned away from her mirror, unable to look at the eyes which were her constant reminder of the bond which kept her from her freedom. Once she had thought the eyes were beautiful. Now she hated them. They itched like crawling bugs, sometimes, and she felt the desire to pull them out.

At least, she consoled herself, she had been marked for repossession. Her mind drifted back to the uncomfortable moment in which she had informed her employer of her departure.

"_You realize, Mag, that you cannot keep both your eyes and your money. You will have to pay the remainder of your debt if you wish to leave GeneCo." Rotti said obliquely, fingers laced together as he studied her from his desk._

"_You know I don't have the means to pay it," she replied blandly, refusing him the dramatic reaction she knew he wanted._

"_So you accept the alternative?"_

Repossession.

"_Yes." He let out a breath of frustration as he sorted through his files, pulling out Mag's and slapping it down on the surface before him._

"_I don't want to do this to you, Mag. Is this what you want?" His hand hovered over the stamp that would secure her fate._

_She nodded, watching with a morbid satisfaction as 'REPOSSESSION' appeared in blood red ink over the white of her papers._

"_I shall get word to you about the farewell concert." His voice was guarded. "Until then, you are required to hold to your contract as the Voice of GeneCo."_

_She nodded once more, holding back a smile as she turned to leave the room. How ironic it was that the news of her impending death should fill her with more happiness than she had felt in years . . . _

The happiness had not lasted. It had bolstered her for a week, perhaps, but then she had drifted back into her depressed mindset. With luck, death would come soon and the grief would not last much longer.

Just as Mag could feel herself slipping into the desolation she usually did everything to avoid, a knock at the door broke her trance of misery.

Mag was perplexed to see two GENterns, one brunette and one redhead, gazing at her mysteriously from beneath their red masks.

". . . Yes?" Mag said slowly, her eyes zooming in on their perfect faces.

"Your presence is required at the Largo apartments," the brunette said smoothly, her tone betraying not an inkling of her purpose. Smiling sweetly, the redhead added under her breath,

"You may want to bring an overnight bag . . . "

"What was that?" Mag asked sharply, wondering if she had heard right.

"Nothing. Now please, we mustn't be late," the redhead replied, taking one of Mag's arms in a surprisingly strong grip.

Mag only had time to grab her cloak from its hook by the door before she was dragged off to the back exit of the theater where a slick black limo was inconspicuously waiting. With any luck, the singer's swift disappearance would go unnoticed by the dwindling theater guests.

As Mag was shoved none too gently into the backseat of the limo, she tried to discover the strange reason for her being rushed to the Largo apartments at such an hour. Surely if Rotti had instructions for her, he would send them on her wrist communicator. Perhaps, Mag realized with growing alarm, this meeting had to do with her announcement to retire from her position with GeneCo. Dread threatened to overwhelm her mind at the thought of a Repo Man waiting for her just inside the darkened doorway . . .

It was strange as well for GENterns to be used as escorts while there were valets already designated for the job. Mag tried to flush away her panic, telling herself there was no sense jumping to conclusions, as she would know nothing until they arrived at the Largo apartments anyhow.

Moments later, the limo came to a stop outside its destination. The GENterns ushered Mag through the doorway and into the elevator that would take them to the floor set aside for the Largos.

As the heavy metal doors clamped shut, Mag felt they were sealing her fate. A feeling of uneasiness settled over Blind Mag like a cloud of fog as the elevator began to rise. Something was waiting for her, and it was bound to be something unpleasant.

Mag's uneasiness grew as the GENterns led her past Rotti's office to the door at the very end of the hall - a door Mag did not recognize.

The brunette GENtern rapped lightly on the door, then opened it, revealing a sumptuous sitting room, furniture swathed in lavish hues of red and gold.

As Blind Mag drank in this sight, a hand was placed firmly on her back and, before she could protest, she was pushed into the room.

The door shut behind her with a foreboding click.

_Not a good sign._

Mag wrapped her cloak more tightly around her and gingerly ventured into the middle of the room, running her hand over the lush fabric of the love seat. Could this be Amber's room? Luigi would never stand for the decor -

"So nice you could-a join the Pavi,_ mia bella_."


	3. Taken

**NC-17 for sure**

* * *

Mag whirled around to see Pavi Largo, leaning elegantly against the marble fireplace, looking her over with hungry eyes gleaming beneath his mask of flesh.

Mag felt fear shiver through her like ice water as she recalled the rumors she'd heard whispered about the middle Largo and his fetish for faces, his insatiable appetite for sexual pleasure.

She had always found these rumors hard to believe, as Pavi seemed too flamboyant for such treacherous deeds. But as he stood before her now, the aura of simple-minded buoyancy she had originally perceived to surround him was smoothly replaced with one of sinister, erotic masculinity.

"What do you want of me, Pavi?" Mag asked warily, though she suspected she knew.

"That's just it,_ bella_, I want-a you." His usually vivacious voice had taken on a lower, huskier tone that chilled Mag from the inside out as he prowled toward her like a graceful panther.

All Mag could see was the garish face that was not his own. The idea of that clammy, dead skin touching her body was enough to make her nauseous.

"Take off-a your cloak, _colomba_, you will not-a be needing it tonight," he cooed, reaching for the clasp at her neck.

He was so close, Mag felt as if she were suffocating. She breathed in and out lightly, rapidly, catching the sent of his cologne with each inhalation. Frozen in the deep green of his eyes, Mag suddenly found her fear replaced by anger. How dare these Largos treat her, body and soul, as if she was a slave? Her eyes might belong to GeneCo, but her body did _not_ belong to Pavi.

"Get away from me, you bastard." She sneered through gritted teeth, enjoying the look of surprise on his face. "I do not owe you anything."

The anger surged forward in the eyes of Mag's captor and he was crushing her against the wall before she could escape him. His knee was wedged between her thighs, both hands grasping her wrists as he pressed himself against her.

"How dare - "

With a hiss of defiance, Mag sank her teeth into the hand restraining her and crushed his left foot with the heel of her boot. The instant he retreated in pain, she made a dash for the door, her only escape.

"_Uunnh!_"

The breath was knocked out of Blind Mag as she was instantly tackled to the floor. She was rolled roughly onto her back before being pinned down as Pavi straddled her, his knees holding her body like a vise to keep her from writhing. A soft, dangerous chuckle came from low in his chest as he turned his hand to show Mag several bite marks blemishing the perfect pale skin, now filling with blood. Mag was frozen, knowing she would not escape from here alive now that she had angered him. Looking into his face, she glimpsed with horror dark eyes glowing with an obsessive fire.

"So this is how-a you like it,_ Magdalene,_ _è molto __destare._" She felt a hardness pressing into her stomach, knowing instantly what it was.

"No, I'm sorry, I - " Mag tried, but was cut off.

"Do not apologize - this-a will only make fucking you more-a fun."

Mag felt reality set in as he laughed these words at her. Mag was a virgin, though she doubted Pavi knew that. Knowing her first sexual encounter would be with a known rapist and murderer sent Mag squirming harder to escape him.

Still chuckling, he drew a scalpel from a pocket in his shirt, the blade sharp enough to cut through skin like butter.

"No!" The word emerged from Mag's throat as a strangled whisper.

"Sssh, _uccella poca_," he hushed "I am only going to help-a you off with-a your cloak." His expression hardened slightly "For now." He slit the cloth clasp at her throat and peeled the garment away from her, revealing her low-cut opera costume in a whoosh of cool air to Mag's porcelain skin.

Pavi stood in a fluid movement, dragging Mag stumbling along with him, her feet catching in the hem of her trailing dress.

Mag's perfect vision blurred with vertigo as she was only vaguely aware of being yanked through a doorway and slammed against the pole of a four poster bed. By the time she was able to grip the pole for support with trembling fingers, her dress had slipped so it was hanging around her waist. Mag felt the dress being torn away from her body by cruel hands, leaving her in only her corset and panties.

A firm arm wrapped around her waist and she found her body pressed to the Largo intent on tormenting her, the pasty skin of his stolen face seeming to glow ominously in the dim room.

A flash of silver alerted Mag to the still-impending danger of the scalpel. She tried to push away, but lost her strength when the glinting blade hovered over her face. Pavi's blood-chilling chuckle reverberated through Mag's bones as the flat side of the blade smoothed across her lips.

"There are-a two ways we can-a do this, _bella_. Your way-"

The blade paused in caressing her lower lip.

"-Or-a the _Pavi's_ way."

Mag gasped as the scalpel jerked, cutting into the tender flesh of her lip. She felt the hotness of blood spilling into her mouth as Pavi's face came within mere inches of hers. The frenzied lust in his eyes seemed to heighten at the sight of her bleeding.

"It is-a your move,_ bella,_" he said softly, pressing the blunt end of the scalpel into Mag's side as a reminder of what awaited her if she chose incorrectly.

Quelling the hysteria rising in her mind, Mag delicately put her arms around Pavi's strong neck. When he made no move to stop her, she steeled herself and cautiously touched her bloody lips against the lips she so feared. Like snakes, his fingers slithered up to knot in her hair, pressing her mouth into his so the light kiss she had begun became one of hot passion and power.

An involuntary sound of pain escaped Mag's captured mouth as Pavi sucked her lower lip, drawing her blood into his mouth with an unquenchable fervor. The cruel, metallic taste filled Mag's senses as her mouth was ravaged by Pavi's relentless tongue. All she could feel was burning hatred, smoldering helplessness, as he took what he pleased from her surrendering lips. At last he pulled away, leaving Blind Mag gasping for breath, inhaling the dark, spicy smell of her captor.

"Blood for blood, _bella_." he murmured smugly as his hands came down over her hips. With unseen strength, Pavi lifted her off the ground, letting her teeter for a moment until she was forced to lock her legs and arms around him to avoid falling.

"You learn-a quickly,_ Magdalene_," came the rough whisper, hot against her neck as he nipped at her earlobe, deftly unlacing the ties of her corset as he held her body against him, her legs spread to force the most private part of her against his warm chest. She shivered, her body tingling despite the layers of fabric separating skin from skin. Meg felt the corset tear away from her, her hands immediately flying to cover her breasts. Then, without warning, Mag was tossed backward onto the coverlet on the bed. Pavi whipped off his over-shirt and kicked off his expensive shoes as if they were naught but peasant-wear before crawling towards her slowly, like a stalking beast. Mag felt she was living a nightmare as his face, garishly joyful, came closer and closer to hers.

Mag scrambled backwards to avoid him, but was too slow. Pavi's hands found her thighs and he dragged her towards him, that terrible laugh vibrating again in his throat. Breathing hard, Mag curled her body as much away from him as she could. When he paused, she looked up at him tentatively.

He was hovering over her possessively on hands and knees. There was something raw and primal in the way he was looking at her, raking his gaze over her exposed body. As he reached for the fastening on his pants, Mag's eyes found the huge bulge just below his zipper.

_I am going to be raped._ Mag's panic exploded. She tried to fling herself away from him, but was caught by the hair and wrenched up backwards against him. Hot breath on her neck, soft hair tickling her shoulder as he leaned closer.

"Are you going to fight-a now,_ bella_?" He said mockingly, laughing when she grunted in protest, trying to wrench away. In a rough movement, he flipped her, grabbing both her wrists in one hand and pinning them above her head, delighting in the growls of frustration coming from her throat.

"You would like that too much," she snarled, powerless in his strong grip.

"The Pavi will-a show you what-a he likes."

He used his free hand to slip off his undershirt. Now bare-chested, he lowered himself to her, their hot, sweat-wetted skin meeting. Mag couldn't look at him. Her eyes nervously strove to focus on something, anything but that face. She jerked when a large, cool hand was pressed to her chest, stopping her thrashing.

Pavi breathed in the scent of the woman below him. Despite her opposing body language, he could smell her arousal, mixed with the musky remains of perfume. This was a moment to savor. He lowered his mouth to the graceful, pulsing neck, his free hand sliding over to grasp her breast. Mag flinched as the lips of his stolen face tasted her thoroughly, licking the salt from her skin and seeming to leave behind a new stickiness that left her feeling dirty and disgusting.

He rubbed his cheek against hers, his questing tongue burning a line up her arm. As he slid back down her body, his hand brushed the fold of flesh between her legs, still covered by dark violet fabric. Smirking, he ripped the last bit of clothing from her, his fingers tracing the edge of her secret lips. Mag gasped sharply in response, too startled to be absolutely humiliated. Pavi's tongue darted out along the lips of his newest face. She was already wet for him - which was hardly a surprise.

Finally, needing his release, Pavi reached for the zipper of his pants, sending Mag flailing with renewed fervor.

"Squirm-a to your heart's content, _Magdalene_, I like-a that!" he sang out with hoarse energy.

Pavi whipped his pants off in a smooth motion, freeing his erection from its containment. He gave himself a moment to look upon the exquisite body of the distinguished singer he had reduced to a trembling, fearful woman. Her pale skin glowed with a sheen of sweat, her hair a tousled mane. But it was the sight of her still-bloody lips that made his member ache with need.

"You belong to-a the Pavi now,_ colomba poca_" he whispered before driving himself into her moistened opening.

Pain shattered Blind Mag at her very core, a scream of agony ripping from her throat as the cruel man tore through her maidenhead.

Pavi froze at the scream, realizing with delight it could only mean one thing.

"Oh, _mia cara_, the Pavi did not know you were still _una vergine_," he crooned, kissing her trembling jaw in mock sincerity.

Before Mag could even catch her breath and absorb the pain, he was thrusting into her again at a relentless pace, his teeth nipping her shoulder. She opened her mouth to scream again, but his lips were once again melded onto hers as he tasted her sweet mouth deeply.

Unfathomable agony wracked through Mag in great waves of torment, her huge eyes wide, but unable to release even a single tear due to the surgery. So distracting was all of this that Mag didn't notice Pavi coming to the edge. He pushed into her more forcefully, making her squeeze her eyes shut and clench fistfuls on the bed material to keep from howling.

With a last powerful thrust, he climaxed, shooting his hot seed into her core as he collapsed onto her, breathing hard. Mag waited for him to pull out of her and leave her to gather the fragile pieces of her dignity, but he did not. Raising himself up on his elbows only moments later, still hard inside her, Pavi looked down at his prize with amusement.

"Are you-a ready for round two?" he said in nearly a cackle. Before Mag could squirm away, she found the fearsome face of the scalpel at her nose.

"I do not want any of the crying this-a time, _bella_." He twirled the blade playfully in front of her nose. "Please-a the Pavi, and you shall keep-a your face," he announced as if this were perfectly logical. "Once again, it is-a your move,_ tesora_."

Mag snuffed out the sniveling, pitiful voice crying out within her. If she could get through this night, she could get through anything. Licking her dry lips, Mag moved her head to Pavi's bare chest. He was still. Slowly Mag leaned into his chest, running her tongue delicately over a hardened nipple. His sharp inhalation of breath encouraged her. Bringing both arms around his shoulders, she caressed first one nipple, then the other with her tongue, listening to his breath come faster and faster until he shoved her backwards, a hand on her neck as he began thrusting into her once more.

But this time it was different. Mag felt a strange mixture of pain and pleasure as he rammed himself into her. Getting another idea, Mag wrapped both legs around his waist so as to let him push into her more deeply. Grabbing a fistful of the carefully styled black hair, Mag bit down on his neck, delighting in the grunt she received in return. With a rush of triumph, she bit him again, and again received a masculine growl as he dug his fingertips into the flesh of her hips.

She could control something. Blind Mag, bound to GeneCo like a slave, could _control_ Pavi Largo. The thought was so invigorating she made a daring move. With sudden force, Mag flipped Pavi onto his back, her body now on top of his. Pavi was surprised at her boldness, but he did not try to stop her as she ground her hips into him.

Now they both could feel the pleasure building between them in unison as their pace accelerated.

The anger Mag didn't know she had kept so tightly bottled up came spilling out as if from an endless supply as she rode the man beneath her like a whore. Mag didn't care. She was lost in her anger, blinded by the fierce joy building up within her. Faster and faster she thrusted against him until the sweet release spilled over them at the same time.

Collapsing on his chest in a heap, she felt Pavi grab her by the hair again, pulling her up like a puppet on strings.

"I have not-a been giving you nearly enough credit,_ bella_." came his husky voice, as his mouth found her breasts.

Again and again they made hard, vicious love, the hours of the night rushing by on waves of feverish passion until at last, it was over.

Mag lay on her back, head turned toward the sweet blankness of the wall to her left, dark tangles of hair spread around her head like a thorn bush. She could feel Pavi's eyes on her, but could not meet his gaze for worry of what she would find there.

Elegant fingers closed around her chin, forcing her to look at him as he lounged above her.

"Do you know,_ bella_, that you are-a the first to last a full night with-a the Pavi?"

Mag's expression didn't change. She didn't care. The usual numbness had returned to her body. She could feel the aching depression rising to the surface of her mind, although this time tinged with disgust in herself.

Pavi hardly noticed, nor did he care about her emotionless visage. Mag had kept up with his rigorous pace all night long, even surpassing him at times. The GENterns typically lasted through one or two climaxes before becoming useless. Pavi was impressed. For once, his sexual appetite had been sated.

Though he called her "treasure" numerous times during the night, he had used the term as an empty endearment. Now he saw the truth. She was a treasure, a precious jewel he would not be losing his grip on.

"Clean-a yourself up, _bella_. There is-a the show tonight." He slipped into his clothes and smoothed his beautiful face before leaving Mag motionless on the bed.

* * *

**Let me begin by saying that I do NOT condone rape in any way. This chapter wasn't meant to be seen as romantic or indulgent, but as another painful factor showing how powerless Mag feels and is in her contract with GeneCo. If you were offended by this chapter, I advise you to cease reading this story now - there will be more scenes like this. Now that bit's over, here is an Italian language glossary for this chapter:**

_bella_ - beautiful

_colomba_ - dove

_è molto __destare - _it is very arousing

_uccella poca - _little bird

_colomba poca - _little dove

_mia cara -_ my dear

_una vergine -_ a virgin

_tesora - _treasure


	4. Agreement

"Papa, there is-a _una materia,_ a matter Pavi wishes to discuss-a with you."

Pavi stood before Rotti Largo's mahogany desk, twirling his mirror in a nimble hand. Luigi and Amber were in the room as well. Pavi wanted to talk to his father in private about Mag coming to reside in the empty apartment next to his. It would be difficult to pass this off as nonchalant, but, ever the narcissist, Pavi did not doubt his swindling abilities.

"Spill the fucking beans," came Luigi's coarse voice as he strode over from his chair to intimidate Pavi with a scowl. Luigi still hadn't recovered from losing the verbal battle in the limo to his effeminate brother.

Rotti nodded shortly, making it clear he did not care what his son had to say. "Say your piece, Paviche."

"This is not about-a the Pavi. It is about-a _nostro cantante, _our-a singer_. . ._"

"What?" Amber snarled, enraged at even the mention of Mag. "You can't mean _her_!"

"_Effettivamente_, sister."

"What of Mag?" Rotti intervened, his attention now caught.

"She is-a lonely, _sfavorito molto_, so deprived in the apartment you gave-a to her."

"We do have room for her here. . ." Rotti mused. He felt pride rise in him at the thought of the beautiful singer - he had found her, created her into the star she was.

"You can't be serious!" Amber raged, her glare darting from Rotti to Pavi, waiting for someone to unveil the unfunny joke.

"I am." Rotti turned to the henchwoman on his left. "Bring Mag's things to our spare apartment immediately."

Amber gaped in horror as the henchwomen marched out of the room to fulfill their duty.

"How are you tied up in all this?" Luigi asked Pavi, his tone suspicious. Luigi knew his brother well. If there was no reward for Pavi in this situation, he would not be going to the trouble.

"You know-a the Pavi, brother - an ear-a to listen, a shoulder to cry on . . ." Pavi trailed off as he slipped out the door, already grinning in triumph. The surge of endorphins at this victory had awakened Pavi's lust. He set off to find a GENtern - all the better to let Mag rest for the upcoming night . . .

* * *

Mag may have lain on the rumpled bed forever if the sudden urge to vomit hadn't risen in her throat. She barely made it to the toilet before heaving into it, dirtying the clear, pristine whiteness like she had dirtied herself by sleeping with Pavi. Again and again her stomach pitched her whole body forward until there was nothing left to throw up.

Mag swatted at the toilet handle until she was able to flush it, the whooshing sound of the water easing her mind only slightly. She sank to the black-tiled bathroom floor, the taste of air sweet on her tongue.

When at last the room stopped spinning, Mag stood to reluctantly assess last night's damage in the mirror. The moment she got to her feet, an aching, piercing pain between her legs made her sink back to the floor again. Mag's bottom hit the floor the same time her composure did. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she cried tearlessly, allowing self-pity to overwhelm her.

How badly then came the ache for affection. A pair of arms around her, holding her close and rubbing her back, a cool voice whispering that things would turn out all right. The painful craving for comfort was so raw, so new. Before now, Mag had been able to keep the pain at a dull throb, like the pounding vibrations of a drum. But it surged back, her body aching, her heart aching, leaving Mag crying naked on the cold tile like an abandoned child.

* * *

"What are you hiding, you miserable fuck?" Luigi was grasping his brother by the neck, before Pavi had even realized he was being followed.

"Pavi would never dream of-a hiding something from his-a dear brother - "

"Cough it up, asshole!"

"If-a you must insist," Pavi relented without too much of a fuss. After all, he was beginning to choke. "But you will-a not even guess, brother? For one with-a so much 'brains' you are very _lento_."

Realization dawned on Luigi's face, his expression a mixture of disgust and bewilderment. Releasing Pavi, the eldest Largo sibling let out a guffaw of amusement.

"You _fucked_ her!"

Pavi shrugged.

"What is-a there to say? She was-a good. . . and _una vergine_."

Pavi basked in the amazement on his brother's face. Speechless at this unexpected bit of information, Luigi stroked his chin.

"So she ain't goin' nowhere?"

When Pavi nodded, Luigi grasped his brother's shoulder, a malicious gleam in his eye.

"I'll take you up on that . . . offer, brother."

"What-a _offer_?"

"In the limo. You said I don't fuck enough."

Realizing where this conversation was going, Pavi scrambled for an excuse. The last thing he wanted to do was share his new toy with Luigi. If Mag made even the slightest fuss, the eldest Largo would likely slit her throat, and then the fun would be over.

"The GENterns, they will do-a the job nicely - "

"You already contaminated all the fucking GENterns, jackass. You share Mag, or I take her."

Pavi thought how to best pull this situation back into his favor. An idea began to take root in his mind. An idea he had never considered before. . ._disgusting, yet genius._ Smiling slowly, Pavi thumbed the gilded edge of his hand-mirror.

"I will-a _share_ her with-a you, brother." His wicked grin only grew, alerting Luigi to the twisted meaning of Pavi's words.

"You aren't - "

But Pavi was. After overcoming the shock, Luigi's tongue flicked out to wet his lips, a smile forming on his face.

"You're saying you and I fuck Blind Mag _together_?"

When Pavi nodded, his brother let out a booming laugh before flipping out his favorite switchblade in anticipation.

"I'm in."

* * *

_Effettivamente - _Indeed

_lento_ - slow

(directly following all the other Italian words/phrases are their English meanings)


	5. Three's a Crowd

Mag finally felt strong enough to stand and limp over to her corset and her torn dress. Donning the clothing slowly, Mag pinned her dress in several spots to hold it and limped toward the door, shrugging her ruined cloak over her shoulders on the way out. It was one step of relieving her tension, opening that door. The next step would be getting down the hallway, then getting into the elevator -

Grasping the doorframe for support, Mag stumbled out into the hallway, only to nearly crash into Luigi Largo.

Mag felt her cheeks redden as Luigi looked her up and down, taking in the bruises and love bites she now sported.

"Pavi really fucked you up, didn't he?. . ." he said, a smirk twisting his mouth at the double meaning of his words.

Mag didn't know how to reply, didn't know how to act in Luigi's presence. He had never paid her much attention and, from the firsthand proof she had seen of his terrible temper, she had never _wanted_ him to.

"I'm fine," Mag said in what she hoped came out as a nonchalant tone. Before he could say anything, she nodded her chin at him in a farewell gesture and walked slowly towards the elevator, trying to conceal her limp. She could almost feel the release of tension as her finger would depress the first floor button and the elevator would carry her away from this madness -

"Hey, where do you think you're goin'?"

Mag froze, squeezing her eyes shut in frustration as she turned around.

"I am going home," she said carefully, noting with apprehension the too-wide smile on his face.

"Uh-uh. You're moving in with us, Mag," he said gesturing to the room next to the one she had just escaped from.

_No!_

"I will not be staying here, Luigi. I have a show tonight. I am going home."

"My father's orders - you'll stay in our spare apartment. Your stuff's already here."

Mag examined her options, thinking her chances of outrunning the eldest Largo were not good, especially in her bruised and sore condition. Her eyes flicked over to see Luigi's hand on his belt where he kept his knives . . .

"All right." Mag said shortly, breaking the silence as she kept her spine straight, walking back to the room which was to be hers with as much dignity as she could muster.

Luigi's eyes followed her slowly moving form. Just as she opened the door, he turned around.

"The limo leaves at seven."

Mag nodded again, wanting so badly to be alone, peacefully immersed in sleep.

"One more thing," Luigi added in a low voice "Your door doesn't have a lock." Then, with a nasty chuckle, he was gone.

Mag didn't even have the energy to be frightened anymore. Limping along, she finally made it to the bedroom, collapsing on the soft comforter. She was asleep in moments, blissfully lost in oblivion.

Mag awoke five hours later at six-fifteen. _The limo leaves at seven . . . _Not wanting to be late, Mag slid off the bed, noticing the soreness between her legs had eased once she had been able to relax her muscles. A hot shower would help even more.

Mag rushed through her shower, putting on the suspiciously revealing costume she found laying on her bed when she came out wrapped in a towel.

It took nearly a half a hour to cover the love bites and bruises with make-up, but Mag managed to end up looking relatively suitable. From the stage no one would be able to tell anyway.

She glanced at the clock.

6:57

Wrapping her cloak around her shoulders and holding it closed at the plunging neckline of her dress, Mag hurried to get to the waiting limo, not because she was eager to go, but because she knew a painful death at the mercy of Luigi's knife awaited her if she didn't.

Mag sank onto her bed, her fear for the coming night slightly eased after the successful distraction of the opera. She sighed, looking at the clock beside her bed. It was ten minutes after midnight - surely the Largos would be abed by now-

The door creaked open, sending Mag's heart thumping. A dark, lithe form stepped into the light.

"_Buena sera, mia bella_." Pavi drawled as he sauntered over to her, leaning casually against a post of her bed.

"No, Pavi. Not - "

"The Pavi regrets we two cannot-a spend tonight _alone_," he said, sending waves of renewed hope coursing through Mag. It quickly vanished when Pavi held out a hand to her. She looked up at him questioningly.

"Come, _tesora_, we do not want-a to be late."

"And just what is it we do not want to be late for?" Mag asked, foreboding swirling in her gut, as she knew this mysterious event would likely be either humiliating or painful.

"You shall see when-a we get there,_ si?_" Pavi grabbed her wrist in one hand, his other slipping around her waist as he walked her forward, out the door. Mag's fear only escalated as they walked past his bedroom door.

They stopped outside the next door. Pavi rapped on the wood delicately before entering. As Mag was quickly dragged inside, she saw they stood inside an apartment much plainer than Pavi's, with only simple mahogany furniture and dark green detailing.

Pavi opened the bedroom door to reveal a large open area with a fireplace and a magnificent, king-size bed.

"Took you long enough to fucking get here."

Mag started and turned to see Luigi, who had seemingly appeared from nowhere. Slowly, Pavi released his grip on Mag, and she automatically took several steps forward to get away from him.

The two brothers were an equal distance away from her, staring at her silently, as if plotting. Mag scanned their faces, recognized the body position similar to that adapted by wolves on a hunt, just before they go in for the kill.

_Oh Good Lord . . ._

It did not take her long to discover their intentions.

"You had her last night, so I get her first now," Luigi said in a soft, conspiring voice to his brother, not taking his eyes off their quarry.

"Why not-a take her together, brother?"

"I'm the oldest, so I'm going first, damn it. You can watch - you'll like that."

Realizing this point, Pavi shrugged, standing back a bit.

Mag was frozen, her eyes stuck on Luigi as he strode up to her, grasping her slender neck in his powerful hands as he tugged her up against him.

"Pop's room is next door. You scream, and I'll _really_ fuck you up," he growled close to her ear. Mag nodded, noticing how his eyes seemed to contain even more insanity up close.

He did not break his gaze upon her pale face as his fingers crept up to his neck to whip off his trademark ascot. Then he stood still, gradually releasing his tight grip on her neck. Like a timid deer, Mag could not move as she watched his eyes darken and his lips part.

Then he came at her with the force of a bull, driving both of them back onto the bed. As Luigi's eager hands moved down her body, Mag's panic took hold and her breathing quickened. Here was a man who could easily destroy her with his passionate lovemaking and walk away from it all with a smile on his face. But begging him to be gentle would only infuriate him.

As she squirmed, firmly held between his knees, his hand came down to capture her chin with an iron grip and his lips followed suit, barreling onto her mouth in a storm of heat and lust. Kissing her hungrily, he drew his favorite knife from his pocket and set it against the top of her dress. Luigi sliced through her corset to her skin, nicking the tender plane of white all the way down her stomach. Ripping away the remainder of her dress, he lowered his mouth frenetically to the thin line of blood. Mag breathed in sharply as his unshaven cheeks rubbed against the tender skin of her breasts. Her legs twined together: an instinct of protection against her captor's increasing vehemence. His lips hurt as they sucked down her stomach, leaving a cold, wet line. Mag shivered, clothed in nothing but her panties.

Though her legs were crossed together, Luigi lifted the knife and slit her panties at the sides, flinging them away to leave her entirely vulnerable as she lay beneath him, trembling.

He took a moment to rake his gaze over her body, but wasn't able to keep his mouth off her for long. Sharp, painful ecstasy as his teeth nipped at her breasts, grated along her neck. It wasn't long before his hands wrapped around her ankles, untangling her legs and dismantling her wall of protection. He pushed her legs far apart, gazing between them hungrily as his erection strained against the constricting fabric of his pants. His clothes were off in an instant. He wanted to feel her skin against his as he leaned over her, not waiting before plunging himself into her tight wetness.

Mag's back arched at the contact. In a frenzy, Luigi pulled out, then thrust back into her very core. Hard and fast, he penetrated her again and again, pushing so hard into her that her body jolted with each thrust. His nails raked over her skin, his mouth coming down on her breasts, sucking her hardened nipples into his mouth.

Mag felt the familiar pleasure building inside of her, but as she neared the edge, Luigi came, shuddering as he spent himself inside her in a hot rush between her legs. Not yet sated, he pulled out and reached a hand under Mag, flipping her onto her back. He dragged her up against him, determined to have her virginity in some way.

Luigi's breathing quickened at the feeling of her smooth, softness against his hard, muscular body. She was so delicate, seemingly withdrawn, but he knew he could get her to warm up to him.

Mag felt his hand ghost up her inner thigh, making a circle around her hip and coming to rest on her right buttock. She heard him inhale and lean away from her ever so slightly. It was only when Mag felt something hot and hard pressing into her backside that she discovered what the eldest Largo intended to do to her.

"No, Luigi, please!" Her voice rose in volume as her panic grew "Not this, I've never - "

She was cut off as his hand covered her mouth.

"Shut the fuck up, Mag. I can see that you want it." His lips brushed her neck. "And don't forget Pop's right next door. Any problems, and you will personally get to know my knives. Every fucking one of them."

Mag shivered with dread, clenching her hands into fists as she felt her buttocks being pressed apart.

Then, all at once, he penetrated her from behind, driving his cock into her tense opening. Mag gasped, her body clenching around him as she tried to absorb some of the sharp pain. But she did not have long to adjust before Luigi upped the pace.

He thrusted into her, delighting in her warm, tight body. She felt so good and so different from the floozies he usually had.

A breathy moan escaped her deep red lips, the sound of her exciting the eldest Largo further. He moved harder and faster, pumping into her as his wild ardor only increased.

At last he came to his peak, pulling out of her before he ejaculated on the red coverlet. Mag and Luigi lay there, breathing hard. They hardly noticed the bed shift with the addition of new weight.

Mag rolled onto her back, her chest heaving. It wasn't until a cool finger traced her cheekbone that she opened her eyes. Meg pressed her lips together as she gazed up at the face hovering over her. Pavi had joined the fray.

_No. _ Alone they were bad enough, but what they could do if they teamed up was too awful to think about. With a naked Largo brother on either side of her, the only way for Mag to go was . . .

She leapt forward suddenly, propelling herself off the bed and towards the door. She darted across the room, already hearing their bare feet slapping the floor behind her. She flung the door open, not letting the movement stop her momentum.

Mag had hardly gotten out of the bedroom before a pair of arms closed around her waist, jerking her backwards and into a strong embrace. The clean, dangerous scent of cologne alerted her to the fact that Pavi was the one restraining her. She felt the hot wetness of his tongue scorch along the back of her neck before he breathed into her ear,

"Caught again, _bella_. When will you learn you cannot escape-a the Pavi?"

His fingertips dug into her sensitive flesh as he dragged her back to the bedroom where Luigi was waiting, a murderous look on his face.

"We're not finished here, Mag," he said in a low voice. Then he turned to Pavi "Lock the door. She's not getting away before I'm fucking through with her."

Pavi obeyed, releasing Mag to tend to the door.

"Get over here, Mag," came Luigi's rough voice.

"No, brother. You had-a your turn. Do not-a forget our deal . . ." Pavi's voice was thick and hard.

It was only now Mag realized how tense she was. Her mind had refused her body two orgasms in a row. Stiff with wanting the sweet release, she couldn't move. Mag was lifted into the air and deposited, once more, onto the bed.

Pavi and Luigi appeared on either side of her, though this time, they would be wary of any attempts she made to flee.

"Close-a your eyes, _Magdalene,_" Pavi crooned, his hand sweeping down her cheek. Mag obeyed, still tense with the interrupted orgasm.

As the darkness closed around her vision, her other senses sharpened. The sensation was so similar to that of blindness; Mag felt the pace of her heart quicken. She was vulnerable to whatever attacks they waged upon her.

Lips captured Mag's then, warm and alive. She was sure it was Luigi kissing her. Tentatively, Mag reached up to touch his face, fingertips exploring the slight roughness of his unshaven cheek, descending to the line of his jaw.

Warm fingers pressed against Mag's waist as she felt the darkness increase, his body blocking out the light as he leaned over her.

It was all Luigi, Mag was sure of it. So rough was his touch when he took her only minutes ago. Now it was soft, surprisingly sensual. But she could not sense the presence of the middle Largo.

A new hand slid over Mag's inner thigh, so close to the peak of her womanhood. So close to relieving the pressure . . .

She begged him with her mind, implored him to give her the pleasure he had withheld from her.

Mag's dark world flickered with feeling as Pavi somehow heard her plea. A long, cool finger slid into her wetness, forcing a small cry from her mouth.

Luigi's tongue slipped between her lips the same moment Pavi inserted another finger, swirling the two digits inside her.

She was close now, so close she could taste it. Her breathing began to race. Pavi's fingers pushed harder, faster, accelerating until Mag's tension exploded in a blossom of joy.

Her lips released a sigh as she slipped an arm around Luigi's back, drunk with pleasure.

Then, feather-light, Pavi's mouth brushed over her cheek to the corner of her chin as he withdrew his fingers from her.

Mag felt the heat of his body on her pulsing skin as he moved closer. Luigi had occupied the space above her, so Pavi slipped beneath his brother's arms, his body sliding flush with Mag's.

She was warm, caught between them, caressed and loved as if she were truly precious. Fearsome as the Largo brothers were, Mag felt safe in this embrace.

The moment ended then as Luigi's lips left hers and Pavi's hands closed around her forearms. Slowly, as if Mag were a doll, he lifted her up so she was sitting on her knees.

"Did you like-a that, _bella_?" He lifted her hand to his mouth gently, planting a hot kiss on her palm.

"Oh she fucking liked it all right. A little too much, if you ask me," Luigi broke in, making Mag's warm feeling drain quickly.

"I could not agree more, brother. Luigi and Pavi cannot-a be left wanting. No, that would-a be sad, _si_?"

Mag braced herself for what she hoped would be her last ordeal.

"Do as the Pavi tells you to, _tesora_, and do not-a be shy."

"And if I refuse?" her eyes locked onto his in a final, pathetic, act of defiance.

"I think you could-a guess the consequences to that, _bella_," he responded craftily, giving her a meaningful look. She knew better than to underestimate him now. Mag nodded shortly, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

_Now comes the humiliation . . . Let it be quick_

"Turn around to face-a my brother."

Mag did so, her eyes meeting Luigi's cold stare.

"Get on-a your hands and knees."

Again she obeyed him.

"And the rest, _bella_, is up-a to _you_."

Luigi rose to his knees, bringing Mag face to face with his cock.

_Oh God no!_

"Bite me and I'll fucking kill you," Luigi snarled down at her.

Abandoning her hopes of appearing a dignified woman in the presence of these two, Mag reached out with her tongue, slowly running it up Luigi's now-hardened manhood. He leaned forward, placing a hand on her shoulder to steady himself as she repeated her actions slowly until Luigi couldn't stand it any more.

"Take me in your mouth, bitch!" He pressed her head into him and, like ripping off a band-aid, Mag quickly wrapped her lips around his cock, letting it slide as far back into her mouth as it would go without gagging her.

_Here we go._

Her mouth began to move quickly, up and down his stiff member, eliciting groans of pleasure from Luigi, his hand tangling in the mass of her hair.

So occupied in her actions, was Mag, that she unwisely forgot about Pavi.

He had risen up on his knees behind her and, as she fucked his brother with her mouth, Pavi fucked her from behind like a dog.

Mag's body quavered as he pumped harder, the building pleasure making her mouth move faster on Luigi. She had to squeeze her eyes shut to avoid biting down on him.

Pavi was breathing hard as he impaled his bitch, the animalistic actions of this coupling increasing the tension swelling in his cock.

They all climaxed simultaneously, Luigi pulling out of Mag before he came, Pavi pulling out after.

The bed groaned softly at the collapse of three sweaty bodies, all in a heap.

Mag let herself be dragged beneath the covers, squeezed in between the brothers.

"Sleep now,_ tesora_," Pavi's smooth voice whispered in her ear as he kissed her neck sensually before slipping down behind her.

Luigi's breathing had deepened, his warm breath tickling Mag's nose. She felt her eyelids drooping and let her body relax.

Mag drifted off to her dreams, feeling Pavi's fingers trace patterns on her back as she lost consciousness.


	6. At Last

Blind Mag awoke in her own bed. Wondering if the whole experience was naught but a terribly twisted dream, she rolled over to see Pavi, fully clothed, sitting beside her. He was watching her silently, one leg bent up at the knee, the other straight out in front of him.

She started to sit up, to make her eyes level with his so he could not look down on her. As the cover slipped off her breasts, Mag found she was still naked. She would have dived back under the sheets, but Pavi stopped her, holding the covers where they gaped around Mag's waist.

"I want-a to look at you, _bella_. The Pavi has not-a taken nearly enough time to admire such-a beauty," he mused aloud.

Mag forced herself to be still as he peeled the covers completely away. For what seemed like hours, he just looked upon her body, delighting in everything he saw, especially the rosy hue of her nipples and the dark thatch of hair between her legs.

He wanted her again, he wanted her now, but he would wait. Now was not the time. Not taking his eyes from her anxious face, Pavi pulled the covers up over her. He gently toyed with a lock of her midnight-colored hair as he said huskily,

"Tonight, the Pavi will not have-a to share you, _si_?"

Then, without another word, he strode elegantly out the door, leaving Mag to bask in her isolation.

She found herself unable to sleep again, so, slowly, she rose and dressed, delighted by the protection of clothes. Releasing a sigh as she ran her hands down her mercifully fabric-covered legs, Mag suddenly felt stifled in the small room. Just as she was heading for the door, a sharp knock resounded on the other side of the wood, making Mag start.

She opened the door to see, thankfully, Rotti Largo.

"Still in bed at this hour, Mag?" he said in confusion upon seeing her unmade bed past her slim form in the doorway.

"I . . . had a late night," she lied, hoping he wouldn't see through her fib. He tilted his chin up, dark eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion, but he did not push her.

"I do hope you aren't _too_ tired Mag. The public opening of the opera house is tonight."

"I shall be fine," she replied softly, her heart sinking at the thought of yet another public appearance in which she was required to smile complacently while Rotti draped an arm around her shoulders, all eyes on her - waiting for the perfect composure of the Voice of GeneCo to shatter . . .

"You will be expected in Sanitarium Square in one hour, Mag."

She nodded her acquiescence as he left her, once again, alone and miserable.

**

* * *

**

Late! After all these years of being on time she was late! Mag stepped out of the limo none too delicately and jogged to the center of the bright, tent-filled square.

She looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of Rotti, when she was startled by a familiar voice cutting through the soft buzz of chattering:

"I WILL SHOOT YOU IN THE FACE!"

Luigi. She dashed in the direction of the voice, turning a corner to see the violent rage in his bulging eyes, even far as she was from him.

"WHAT'S THIS, RAT PISS?" He began to viciously stab the poor soul who had the misfortune of bringing Luigi Largo unsatisfactory coffee.

"Luigi, stop it!" Mag cried, stepping forward instinctively. His head shot up, their eyes meeting.

His expression was one she couldn't decipher. Not anger, not fear . . . he almost looked like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but Mag refused to believe her eyes. This was Luigi Largo -

"Who's gonna sing then after you leave?" Amber strutted up to shove Mag in the shoulder, dressed in yet another ridiculous outfit.

"Amber, please, it's not my place," Mag responded, not wanting to anger Rotti's brat of a daughter.

"Someone must sing, why can't it be _me_?" screeched Amber, obviously in the mood for a fight.

"Sister, please!" Pavi had appeared out of nowhere, his eyes hiding a hint of anger behind the concealment of his latest face.

"Just shut your face!" Luigi added with a snarl, stepping slightly in front of Mag.

As the battle raged on, Mag barely noticed the shouting. Luigi and Pavi were _protecting_ her. Though surprising, she told herself their actions were not out of tenderness. Mag was simply the desirable female, and Luigi and Pavi were the males who wanted to mate with her. Just like how it used to work in nature.

"Children off!"

Mag was jolted back into reality at the sound of Rotti's voice. As she turned to greet him, she froze upon seeing the person standing next to him.

It was Marni. Or at least, a teenaged, skinnier version of Marni. But Marni was dead; Mag had seen the body herself.

"There's someone I want you to meet, a daughter of an old friend, a ghost of your past." Rotti looked at Mag fondly, gesturing to the girl.

The lenses of Mag's eyes shifted, focusing in on the admiring grin on the face of the girl. Mag was too frozen by disbelief to smile back, but the girl didn't seem to notice.

Shilo. _But it couldn't be . . ._

"Will the Voice of GeneCo please take the stage?"

Mag reluctantly obeyed, enduring Rotti's arm and the devouring stares of the people. She could only see one face, one genuinely idolizing, adoring face.

Mag resolved then, as she stood before flashing cameras that she would not return to her apartments without talking to the girl who had to be Shilo. The eyes, the hair . . . Yes. There was no mistaking it now. This was Shilo, Mag's goddaughter. Someone to love at last.


	7. Pavi Cannot Wait

The opera would not begin for another couple hours. Mag smiled as much as she could force herself to as she stood beside Rotti.

Mag was relieved as a reporter took Rotti's attention away from her, but just as she was backing up, preparing to flee and speak with Shilo, a leather-gloved hand closed around her wrist.

"_Buona sera, bella._ We have an hour or so before-a the opera starts,_ si_?"

"Pavi, please, not now. There's someone I need to - " Mag turned to gesture to Shilo, but the girl was gone.

"It seems-a your 'someone' has disappeared," Pavi replied, his arm snaking around Mag's waist.

"I do not have time - " Mag protested, knowing it was futile as Pavi cut her off.

"_Uno momento, bella,_" he purred into her ear "The Pavi cannot-a wait until tonight." He began pulling her back into the newly opened opera house.

Mag's eyes met Luigi's as she felt herself yielding to Pavi's strength. _Help_, she begged him silently. But he did not notice. His gaze flicked to Pavi and Mag swore she could glimpse an ounce of jealousy on the eldest Largo brother's visage. Holding back a scream, Mag reluctantly succumbed to the force dragging her away from safety.

Mag's eyes glowed in the darkness, allowing her to see where she was being taken. Pavi opened a door and she saw they were inside her dressing room.

She was flung to the middle of the room as Pavi shut and locked the door. He turned to face her slowly.

"Please, we can't . . . we can't. . . " Mag couldn't bring herself to say it.

"Make-a love?" Pavi said for her, sauntering toward her snidely. Mag felt her face heat.

"Making love and . . . what we do are entirely different," Mag retorted angrily, her hands shaking with anger at her sides.

"But it is-a still sex either way, no? And what better way to-a christen your dressing room for-a tonight's performance?" His too-wide grin disgusted her.

"You are revolting," she snarled without thinking.

The transformation that came over his features was absolutely terrifying. Pavi's face was frozen in the mask covering it, but she could see his eyes burning with rage.

"Do you think so, _Magdalene?_" Her name came mockingly from his lips, his voice cold. He came closer until he could have kissed her, pushing her back against the dressing room table.

"Do you know,_ bella_, of all the terrible things the Pavi could-a do to you if-a he so chooses?"

One of his hands shot forward to grasp her neck, the pressure strong enough to strain her breathing. The other hand withdrew a knife from his pocket. It was small, unlike the knives Luigi so favored, but menacing nonetheless as it winked in the dim light.

He brought the blade to her cheek, tracing it fondly along the side of her face, as a lover might do with a tender finger.

"It would-a be so easy for the Pavi to take-a your face. A slice is all it would-a take. No pain for-a the Pavi," he crooned, brushing away the strands of her hair that had fallen over her face. His fingertips came to her jaw to hold her in place so he could gaze upon her beautiful visage.

The fear in Mag's bionic eyes rose as she considered the fact that he would very likely go through with this. She started to brace herself against the pain she knew would be coming as she tried to imagine her skin being sliced off.

She was so occupied in her panic that she didn't notice Pavi slide the knife back into his pocket. With his hands still on the sides of her face, he leaned in, sucking her lower lip into his, probing it gently with his teeth.

"Pavi, stop - " Mag tried to interrupt, but he only kissed her more roughly to cease her protests. She struggled against him, hating the ravenous way his hands squeezed at her breasts. He would take his pleasure cruelly today. But she was not strong enough to push him away. Mag bit down on his lip as hard as she could, relishing his cry of pain as he released her.

His fingers flew to the small rip she had made in the face he currently wore, ignoring his own bleeding lip.

"So savage today," he growled at her, coming forward again so she could see the wild look in his eyes. Mag had ruined his precious face, and she would pay for it.

But she felt strangely calm in the face of certain death. If she was to die anyway, she would go down fighting. Hardening her expression, Mag glared into Pavi's eyes as he loomed above her.

"I do not want you. I never will. You, your whole family, you all _disgust_ me." She sucked in a breath of air, encouraged by the look of surprise on the face of her tormentor "I hate singing for you, I hate singing for GeneCo, and I will not be your toy anymore."

Silence. Then, the frozen expression of stupefaction on Pavi's face was quickly succeeded by one of evil, cruel rage.

"Oh, _bella_, you do wound the Pavi so," he moaned mockingly, stepping up against the edge of the counter and snatching her thighs apart. "Up until now, you have-a been the Pavi's _lover_, _bella_. But that can-a change. The Pavi has-a many willing _bellas_ for-a loving. They are-a _good_ to the Pavi." He shoved her skirts over her hips, exposing her to him. "Let me tell you _una storia_, _Magdalene._" He pulled the shoulder straps of her dress down, grabbing her around the neck so she was forced to look at him as he spoke.

"Papa kept-a dogs a long time ago to test-a products for GeneCo. The Pavi was very small, _si?_ But he watched his Papa train the dogs, inject them with-a hormone supplements. Sometimes, _Magdalene_, the bitches would-a not want to mate. They would-a cry and run away, hiding from Papa." Pavi's hands tightened on top of her thighs, squeezing her until she squirmed. "The bitches, they would-a bite and scratch. Sometimes Papa had to sedate them. Other times," he paused to leer at her "He would-a put them, one by one, in a ring with the biggest, most-a rough males. The bitches were-a mated until their-a flesh was torn and ragged."

"If they had-a not put up such a fight at first, they would have-a survived," he finished, his lips brushing Mag's neck.

"The Pavi likes you, _Magdalene_. It would-a be sad to waste such a _bella_ for the sake of a tiny rip, _si? _So make-a your choice. Will you be a dog, or a lover?"

He came at her again, but this time, Mag was ready. She went to press her hands against Pavi's precious face, fingers eager to dig into the dead skin that disgusted her so. But he moved at the last second, making Mag's nail catch on the metal clip attaching his stolen face to his real one. Changing her plans in an instant, Mag unhooked the clasp and the one below it, drawing a howl of rage from her tormentor as the stolen face slid away from his face, now attached on only one side.

For a moment there was silence as they stared at each other in frozen disbelief.

Mag took in Pavi Largo's face, his true face. Though impaired with scars and other markings, his face was handsome, the bone structure strong and sensual. He was human.

Mag was surprised at the tingle of compassion she felt for him. Perhaps he was as lonely as she. As the singer scrutinized him, searching his face desperately for something human, Pavi's mind followed an entirely different thought process.

It had suddenly become extremely tempting to kiss a woman without the lips of his stolen face in between. Granted, he had grown used to the feeling, but it had been so many years since he had kissed a woman with his own naked lips.

"Who did this to you?" she murmured, the sensation of warm, soft fingers on his scars unfamiliar.

But this was getting far too sentimental for Pavi's taste. He swiftly pulled down the straps of her dress and yanked her skirt up around her hips, lifting her deftly onto the counter. He was hard already as he undid the clasp on the front of his pants.

Trapping her against the mirror with his body, Pavi leaned into her. He lowered his chin to kiss her mouth.

The feeling of his hollowed, marked up skin against hers, so soft and smooth, was a new sensation Pavi found intoxicating. Touching her lips was a new pleasure entirely. He never tasted or felt anyone so solidly. And he had only yet kissed her lips.

He moved to her neck, the velvety softness soothing to his marred skin. His lips traveled down to her breasts. Mag shivered, arching into his touch before she knew what she was doing. The uneven pressure of his scarred lips on her tender nipples was rapturous to Pavi, but it was not enough. He wanted more.

His hands grazed over her thighs, pushing her legs apart as he came into a kneeling position before her, his mouth reluctantly parting from her stomach as he drew back.

"Put-a your leg over my shoulder, _bella,_" Pavi said softly, his eyes flicking to her face as he wetted his lips. Fingers sliding along her skin, he began to position himself to taste the only part of her he had yet to explore. Mag felt her breath quicken, reluctance squeezing through her. Though pleading with Pavi never worked, Mag tried again,

"No, Pavi, not this. At least allow me a small measure of - "

"Yes, _bella_, yes-a to this." He yanked her leg up over his shoulder. "The Pavi will make you cry his-a name."

He leaned in then, the erotic feeling of his tongue slithering into her womanhood making Mag's body jerk. His lips caressed her as he fucked her mercilessly with his tongue, delighting in her involuntary writhing.

She found herself unable to hold back a moan, bracing her hands on the edge of the desk to keep her balance. Encouraged, Pavi swirled his tongue inside her at a more rapid pace.

A sudden pounding at the door caused both of them to start, Pavi pulling away from his captive only slightly.

"Pavi! Open the _fucking_ door!" Luigi thundered, the nearness of the sound implying he was right outside.

Pavi sucked in a breath, quivering in excitement at this opportunity to taunt his brother.

"Mag and the Pavi are a bit . . . _busy,_ brother," Pavi called gleefully as he straightened up, grabbing Mag around the waist to pull her closer.

"Pavi, no!" Mag planted both hands on his chest, sick of being yanked around like a doll. But his strength was too great. He snatched her wrists in one hand, pulling them roughly aside as he yanked back her skirts with the other hand.

Mag flailed desperately, abhorring being used as a slave to Pavi's desires. He had now infiltrated every orifice of her body at his leisure, and she refused to let him have her again without more of a fight.

But Pavi only seemed amused by her efforts. He slid his pants down enough to free his raging erection. He closed the gap between them and pushed himself into her, sucking in a breath at her tightness.

Mag cried out as his length penetrated her. Why did it still hurt so much? She tried to wriggle away, but he had too tight a grip on her wrists.

"She is-a feisty today, brother. You are-a missing out," Pavi uttered before drawing himself out of her, thrusting back in to the hilt.

His pace was hard and fast as he pushed Mag closer to the orgasm she didn't want. But her body betrayed her. No matter how furiously her mind told her to fight him, she only arched against him, her breath shallow and fast as the impressive size of him stimulated her inner walls.

Pavi listened to his brother's snarls of rage with pure delight. It was even more fun fucking Blind Mag when he knew his brother wanted her too. Intoxicated with pleasure, he bit Mag's neck harder than usual, licking madly at the line of blood he drew.

Mag had to fight to keep from screaming, unable to detect whether she was in pleasure or pain. But as the familiar tension closed in on her, she released a pent-up moan. Knowing she was close, Pavi thrusted harder, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pummeled deeper into her, sending her back thumping into the mirror with the force.

The orgasm flooded Mag's senses as her muscles shuddered in the aftermath, waves of unholy delight saturating her whole body.

She released a throaty sigh as the pleasurable surges stretched from her toes to her fingertips, allowing her to forget for a moment.

"Can-a you hear her moaning for-a the Pavi?" he cried in triumph as he finished within her.

A roar exploded from the eldest Largo and the door was smashed open. Luigi made a beeline for Pavi and he grabbed his brother around the neck, yanking him away from Mag.

"How dare you fucking taunt me like that! We had a deal!" Luigi raged. Pavi sharply kneed his brother in the crotch, dancing backward as he was released.

"It was a one-a time offer, brother. The Pavi thought-a you knew that," The middle Largo chortled, watching his brother crumple in pain.

"I will fucking kill you!" Luigi gasped as he straightened up slowly, fury powering past the ache in his groin.

"Better not do that, _fratello_. If-a the Pavi was dead, Magdalene would-a have no one around worth fucking, _si_?"

With a howl of outrage, Luigi lunged at his brother, the two of them crashing back into a clothes rack. Mag stood, feeling Pavi's hot seed trickle town her leg. She ignored it, shuddering only slightly in disgust. As the Largos madly attacked each other, Mag quietly slipped out of the room, snatching a cloak from a hook by the doorway to disguise her appearance. It was best not to be noticed if she wanted to find Shilo before the opera.


	8. Maverick Mag

Mag stood before the Wallace house, noting the dark, somber appearance of the building she used to associate with happiness. When Marni died, she had taken the light with her.

Mag pressed the buzzer on the gate, knowing she had to hurry.

"Shilo, is your name Shilo? Can I talk to you? Could you come down please? So we can speak," her voice was soft, but clear and melodic as she persuaded the girl to let her in with a song.

Mag floated through the gate as it opened for her. "I saw you at the show. I thought I'd seen a ghost."

She pulled down her hood to bare her face to the pale girl watching her from behind the gated door.

"Your resemblance is striking. You have your mother's eyes, her hair; I was told you died with her. All these years have come and gone. How do I put this: I'm your . . . godmom." Mag watched Shilo with anxious eyes. Perhaps it was a mistake to come here in the first place.

"State your business," a wary voice answered in song.

"Business?" Mag was confused. Shilo was her goddaughter, wasn't that reason enough to want to be here.

"What do you want?"

"I want I want to finally meet you, something real to cling to, leave you with the hope that you will go to all you're meant to, all I've failed to. In you is a world of promise - we have both been kept in bondage, but you can learn from all my failures - "

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." Shilo was still cautious. She was playing Mag's game, but it would take more than a song to win over this girl.

"Or let them through the gate?" Mag quipped as she neared.

"That either. A big risk - "

"A big fence - "

"A mistake - "

"A new friend." Acting on impulse, Mag projected her only image of Marni to a very awed Shilo, who dashed forward to throw open the door, then ran back to the safety of the stairs. Mag walked slowly, letting the image of Marni be the shimmering bond between them. She got a closer look at Shilo. The girl was lovely, reminding Mag so much of Marni she was thankful her tear ducts had been destroyed.

Shilo was bewildered at the fact that the beautiful woman she had idolized for as long as she could remember was her godmother. Mag moved with an uncanny fluidness, her eerie smile lost in the appearance of her famous eyes.

Suddenly, the image of Marni was gone.

"How'd you do that?" Shilo asked eagerly.

"Do what?" Mag's lips tilted in a slight smile, her response playful.

"That. That eye thing."

"These eyes can do more than see."

"I know, I mean, I've seen you sing."

"Where?"

"From my window. I can see the world from there. Name the stars and constellations, count the cars and watch the seasons."

"I wish we could have watched together," Mag imagined herself sitting near this window with Shilo lovingly held in her arms.

"I can't have guests," Shilo was on edge again.

"Never?" _No, I need you, Shilo_.

"Ever. If Dad found out that I'd been let out or you'd been let in . . . "

"I should go then. Before I do, promise me you won't - "

"Better that you don't forget" Mag smiled, knowing Shilo was not frightened of her. "A sheltered rose needs a little room to bloom outside her bedroom!" She cast out the picture of Marni once more, basking in the look of wonderment on her goddaughter's face.

Tenderness for the girl swelled in Mag's heart. She had never felt that she loved anyone since Marni died, but she loved Shilo now. _One last bit of advice for you, Shilo . . . Don't make the mistakes I did. _

"Let your life be your dream, integrity, honesty. It's too late for me - don't look back till you're free to chase the morning."

As the image flickered out, Mag gazed upon Shilo's face for what could be the last time. Shilo looked right back, a smile flowering her pale face. Suddenly, Shilo's vision flicked to something behind Mag and the smile disappeared.

Mag turned to see the weathered face of Nathan Wallace, darkened by shadows. Driving the fear away from her mind, Mag reminded herself that this was Nathan Wallace, a man whom she had known well. Perhaps that man was still there . . .

"Hi, Nathan," she kept her tone light, forcing herself to stay put as he entered the room, walking as if he carried the world upon his shoulders.

"Mag," he turned to face her "How did you get in here? Don't you have a show tonight?"

"How are you, Nathan?" She asked pointedly.

"Busy."

"You never were a man of many words, Nate," she let the melody rise in her voice, expressing the anguish she felt at losing him to the dark sadness that had consumed him. "You told me Shilo died! Nathan, I promised your late wife I'd be present in Shilo's life!"

"Please, Mag! Shilo's very ill! It's not safe for her to see people." His response was reticent. "I need to give her her medication."

"Dad," Both adults were surprised to see Shilo's intervention "Let her stay in here - "

"No, she's leaving!" Nathan grabbed Mag's wrists then in a rough gesture that reminded Mag of Pavi. She struggled, not hearing the exchange between father and daughter as the latter pleaded for Mag to stay. Touched as she was by Shilo's concern, Mag was coming to realize, with growing dread, that she and Shilo would never have a relationship because of Nathan's tight restrictions on his daughter's life.

Mag half-heartedly assured Shilo she would be fine, unable to hug the goddaughter Mag knew she would never see again. As much as Blind Mag fought him, Nathan was too strong for her. He opened the door and threw her out, slamming it just as she crashed against it, aching to pass through the iron bars and glass as if she were nothing but a ghost.

Shilo was pressed to the other side of the door for but a moment before her father began to drag her up the stairs.

"No," Mag murmured in vain, watching until she could no longer see Shilo.

The soprano turned away from the glass, not knowing which of her many feelings to acknowledge first.

She was angry. Angry at the Largos for humiliating her again and again. She was angry with Nathan for taking Shilo away from her, but mostly she was angry at herself for not being strong enough.

A fog of despair settled over Mag. She was powerless. Utterly powerless. When a man wanted her voice, he had it. When he wanted her body, he took it. When he wanted to crush her love and hope, he did so without mercy. And now, when her execution was commanded, a man would take the last thing that belonged to her: her soul.

Suddenly, she froze in revelation. No, her soul was still hers. She could still win the battle for her soul despite the numerous battles she had lost. Tonight was the last opera, her last song before she would be slaughtered in a dark corner.

She thought of Shilo, how precious the girl was to her already. But Shilo would move on. She had her father. And as for Nathan, he clearly was not the same man Mag knew from the past. He would not miss Mag either.

Mag realized, with a start, that she could not die with the bionic eyes which were the property of GeneCo. She must die as blind as she was when she was born an innocent, now changed into another creation of the filth that was reality.

Mag gently pressed a finger to the corner of her eye, imagining how she could bring herself do it. It would hurt, perhaps enough to stop her from doing what she intended. She shook her head as she exited the gate of the Wallace home. There was one thing she needed to acquire for this plan to work.

It had been a long time since Blind Mag had the opportunity to wander about the streets of Crucifixius. She pulled her hood forward to shadow her face, not wanting to be recognized by the nighttime street-dwellers.

Perhaps this Graverobber didn't even exist - the GenCops surely would have caught him by now if he did. But Amber got her zydrate from _someone_, and Mag intended to find him.

It seemed darker than usual, the dim lighting of the street lamps not enough to purge Mag's tense fear. She walked on, silently glancing around her for any clues to quicken her journey.

As she came to the edge of a large building, Mag could see a shadow-drenched alley stretching out to her left.

_Perhaps this is the type of place where grave robbers hide . . . _

Into the alley she went, her flawless, glowing eyes lighting the way. A small blaze of light caught Mag's attention and she veered toward it, honing in on the human forms languidly hovering around what she could now see was a lantern of some sort.

As she neared, a few of them looked up unwarily at her presence, their pupils dilated, expressions slack. Glancing over their ragged appearances, Mag surmised that these night creatures must be Z-addicts.

"Excuse me," she said clearly, glad to see they weren't entirely useless as a few of them turned toward her. "Do you know a man named 'Graverobber'?"

"Hells yeah, I know him. Whassit to you?" a young blonde woman slurred, taking a step toward Mag.

"I need to see him immediately."

"Yeah?" A slow smirk spread over the addict's lips "What for?"

"I intend to make a purchase."

The addict nodded, seeming to understand at last. All at once, her expression cleared slightly.

"Hey, do I know you?"

"No," Mag pulled her hood forward to shield any luminance of her infamous eyes. "Please, I don't have much time. Take me to him."

"Okay, okay. I'll take you. This way." The Z-addict moved at a surprisingly quick pace. Perhaps it was the glowing blue temptation that powered her delirious stumble through the dark streets.

Mag tried to commit the twists and turns they made to memory, but she began to give up as she lost track of the streets blurring past.

"Here you are." The Z-addict pointed to what appeared to be an empty wall. Mag stepped forward, about to voice her confusion, when she saw a cleverly concealed side alley looming before her. Mag walked into the blackness, thankful for the glow of her eyes, with her guide shuffling up behind her. Mag squinted, thinking she must not be seeing clearly – the darkness seemed to slope downward.

"Go on! Your Z's down there!" The addict drunkenly shoved Mag toward what she could now see was a staircase.

She went down tentatively, the addict close behind. At the foot of the stairs was a rather grimy, expansive room, hallways leading off at either end mysteriously. Mag stepped forward, not surprised to see several young women and men slumped against walls or sprawled on the floor. As Mag stepped into the center of the room, taking in the sights she had only seen on the covers of tabloids, a low-pitched voice purred out from behind her,

"I don't believe it - The Voice of GeneCo lookin' for a fix. But then again, you can only hold up for so long."

Mag turned to find herself face to face with who could only be the famed Gravrobber. She took in the sight of him - long tousled brown hair with strands of color peeking out through the wild locks. Pale face, dark, smirking lips, broad shoulders. He was real.

"Brought you a newbie, Graves. Does that mean I get another hit?" Mag's Z-addict guide appeared between them, her voice between a seductive murmur and a whine.

The Graverobber's languorous expression shifted into one of annoyance.

"You know you gotta pay just like the rest of 'em," he said tersely to the clinging girl, shaking her away from him. She pouted, but was still too high to put up a real fight. As the distraction drifted away, Mag thought to get out her money so as to pay for the drug and get out of this place.

As her hand reached for her purse, she froze. The small bag she usually carried under her cloak was gone.


	9. Pure

Feeling the heat of Graverobber's stare, Mag slowly tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. As the silence dragged on, her thoughts began to race.

She had no money. She couldn't pay. She would never taste the freedom she came so close to snatching -

It only took a short glance at her surroundings for Mag to come to the realization that it was likely this Graverobber would accept a different kind of payment for his zydrate.

She swallowed. Once upon a time, Mag would have refused to carry out such a promiscuous task of her own free will, but as images of Pavi's cruel smile and Luigi's eager eyes surged through her mind, Mag decided Graverobber could be no worse than the Largo brothers.

_My body for my life . . . _

She did not look him in the eye as she slipped off her cloak, letting it flutter to the ground. He watched her as she prepared to slip the straps of her dress off her shoulders, bare herself to this man she had met only moments ago for the cure she needed.

Mag glanced up at him suddenly, her hand clutching the left strap of her dress.

"Can we go somewhere more private?" she snapped in irritation, her breath coming out as a hiss. He surely would not be cruel enough to make her strip in front of all these people, stoned as they were.

"Yeah, c'mon." Mag saw he looked slightly confused as he led her down one of the mysterious hallways, gesturing for her to enter a small room just around the corner.

She slid past him, trying to avoid shivering as he stood before her, waiting.

With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes, not wanting to see his face when she stood naked before him. With her eyes squeezed shut, Mag's hand lighted to the left strap. Just as she was about to pour forward the strength to yank it over her shoulder, a large, cool hand covered hers.

"Stop," was all he said. Mag opened her eyes to see him looking at her with an unexpected softness in his eyes.

"As much as I'd love for you to keep going, it'd be nice to know why you're so willing to give yourself up . . . "

"Zydrate. I need zydrate." He looked taken aback, but only for an instant before his smoldering composure settled over his bold features once again.

"I didn't see you as the type . . . a closet Z-addict, huh? That's rich," he chuckled. "Who was your last dealer?"

"I am not an addict," Mag's jaw trembled in anger. Was every man in this city so arrogant? _It hardly matters now,_ Mag thought dryly. "I don't need it to nurse an addiction. I need it as a painkiller."

Despite her vague words, Graverobber somehow seemed to grasp the meaning of what she intended to do, and his expression sobered.

"Hey now, I didn't mean it," he insisted apologetically, appearing to search for words of reassurance, but finding none.

"Well - ?" She gripped her dress strap for a third time. He smiled charmingly.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you, Mag? First hit's free."

Her hand was away from the strap in a flash.

"And you tell me this now?" He shrugged noncommittally.

Mag felt her frustration rising rapidly. _Get the Z and move._ She was desperate to do this before her nerve failed her.

"Please, my time is running out - "

"Wait, before I give it to you, I need to know something: Are you gonna kill yourself?"

A bit stunned, Mag thought carefully before replying.

"That's none of your business."

"No, it's not. But before I shoot you up, I have a request . . ." He replied slowly.

"What happened to 'the first hit is free'?" Mag was ready to scream in frustration.

"I'm not asking for sex, Maggie. I want a kiss."

A kiss? That was hardly believable. What human male would extract nothing but a kiss from a desperate woman under his power?

"C'mon, if it's your last kiss, I'll make it a good one," he said roguishly. Noting wildly how much time had passed since her departure from the opera house, Mag had no choice but to accept.

"I will do it, but once I do, you must give me the zydrate and show me the quickest way to the opera house."

"It's a deal, Maggie," his low voice seemed to drop in pitch, if possible, to become a pleasant rumble, a soft sound that Mag found curiously soothing.

He surged toward her then, his hands cupping her chin to hold her steady as their lips merged together. Mag was surprised at the warmth of his kiss. He tasted different from Pavi and Luigi - softer, more welcoming. She even thought she could detect a sweetness in his insistent lips.

All too soon, it was over. Mag caught her breath, hoping she did not look as glassy-eyed as she felt. As she recovered, Graverobber knelt at her feet, beginning to gather up her skirt.

"What are you doing?" Mag was startled at his boldness.

"I'm going to shoot you up. Don't you know the most sensitive area of a woman's anatomy is the best place to inject the Z?"

There was something subtly sexual in the way his hands lingered over her thighs before he gently pressed them apart. With one hand on the very edge of her inner thigh to hold her in place, he withdrew his zydrate gun from a pocket deep in his coat. After probing her flesh for a moment to find the proper place, he positioned the needle at her skin. She waited for him to inject it, but he paused, looking up at her.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Maggie? Once it's in you, you're hooked." His brusque concern touched Mag more than she would have expected. She favored him with a smile, her first real smile in years.

"I'm sure." He nodded at the same time he pulled the trigger, shooting the elixir into her pulsing vein.

Sweet, cool numbness enveloped Mag like a tender embrace as the feeling in her limbs sparkled with pleasure. That blue heaven washed over her, caressing her like a lover. She breathed a sigh as she sank to the ground in absolute, unadulterated, sapphire ecstasy.

Mag didn't even notice as Graverobber lifted her gently into his arms, carrying her out the back exit.

"Good luck, Blind Mag," he whispered into her hair as he slipped through the alley.


	10. Requiem

By the time Mag was able to see past the blue haze, Graverobber had disappeared, leaving her at the back entrance to the opera house. Thankfully, Mag was now able to maintain herself enough to avoid suspicion.

Passing the guards at the back entrance, her feet brought her to the dressing room to prepare for the show.

_And what a show it will be . . ._

She thought of Pavi, as he had taken her in this very room only hours ago. The image made Mag even more determined to take control of her life.

Making her way to the mirror, Mag's toe caught on the edge of her costume dresser. She felt no pain. The zydrate was still working then, but she couldn't afford to be overconfident, not now. Her final opera would begin in one hour and there was still much to be done.

She opened the top dresser drawer to find her necklace, sifting through the unruly piles of jewelry. As she brushed the bottom, her fingers hit something hard and rectangular. Curious, she pulled the object out.

Her grandmother's book of Italian poetry. She smiled in reminiscence, fondling the worn, brown cover. She had been so inspired by these poems as a child, even now in the present. Mag absently flipped through it, her eyes scanning the lovely words, a soothing balm to her pain.

_Wait . . ._

Mag turned the pages faster, searching for the poem that had risen to the surface of her mind. On page 249 she found it, her finger skidding to a stop below the title: _Chromaggia. _She read through it only once before knowing she had to recite this before the opera crowd. But how? It was not a song.

_I can make it a song._

Mag bit her lip in concentration as she let the words of the poem fill her mind, overshadowing her anxiety. When the notes began to come to her, she snatched up the pen on her desk, furiously scribbling them down. Even as her hand began to cramp, she wrote on, willing the music to stay in her memory long enough to record it.

When at last she threw down the pen, Mag slipped out of her dressing room to find the bandleader.

"Can you play this?" She handed him the poem, her hands trembling. _ If he said no. . . _

"I think so," he replied after glancing over it. "Though it is rather close to show time to be making such a big change."

"This is my last song. It will be worth your trouble," she assured him, hoping he would come through for her when she needed his expertise most.

Half an hour until the opera. Mag dressed in the costume she had planned for her original song. Running her hand over the smooth, dark feathers of the costume, she was convinced her decision to sing Chromaggia was meant to be. She took a deep breath, her body and mind still blessedly numb from the zydrate. Walking over to her costume jewelry box, Mag searched for the necklace she had chosen to go with her costume. As she did, a small, black silk-wrapped bundle caught her attention. Heart leaping, she reached to unwrap the silken casing.

_In the nights following her announcement of retirement, Mag comforted herself with the same fantasy. _

_She would be sitting against the rough, brick wall of an alleyway, her skirt soaked with the dirty street water as escape from her hunter was futile. The Repo Man would stalk towards her, scalpel shining mockingly in the dim light from the street lamp. She would raise her hands up as if to shield her face from his attack, to allow him to think she was afraid, let him be in control. But it would be she who would have the final say in her life this time. She would wait until he was upon her, lifting his fatal knife to recapture what was rightfully GeneCo's before plunging her long fingernails into the eyes that did not belong to her. She would smile for the last time as the Repo Man froze in stupefaction, his eyes disbelieving beneath the glowing blue of his mask as blood would course down her white cheeks, staining them forever. In her final act of defiance, Mag would cup the eyes in her hands, feeling their roundness for the last time before she crushed them in her fists. Her euphoria would protect her from the scalpel's ripping pain as she laughed her last breath away . . . _

_How morbid, she found herself chuckling, but this thought never failed to calm her. She only worried that she would not be able to grow her nails out long enough to do the job effectively, before someone could stop her._

_When she learned how weak human fingernails are, she was forced to search for another option, but found none. That is, until the day at Sanatarium Square. The street salesman always had many wares to offer on the one day GeneCo allowed them to cry their prices in the heart of Crucifixius, where all the best business was._

_However, the salesman who caught Mag's attention was silent and hunched over, fingers ghosting over small, dark pieces of jewelry. Intrigued, Mag stepped closer. When her eyes found the long, deadly finger talons, she knew her search was over._

"_What are these for?" She asked, holding them up to the vendor. He met her eye, a knowing smile stretching across the crags of his face._

"_That's for you to decide, miss." She bought them on the spot._

Mag cradled the bundle gingerly in the palm of her hand, as if it might explode. She unfolded the cloth to see the talons gleaming at her, as if sharing a secret in the soft light. She slipped them onto her index fingertips, reassured at the perfect fit. Running a finger carefully over the edges, Mag was pleased to find they were just as sharp as she had left them. Turning to face the doorway, Mag forgot about her necklace completely as she wet her lips.

She was ready.

"It is with great honor that I present the Voice of GeneCo herself, Blind Mag!"

Mag breathed deeply, feeling the numbing tingles of the zydrate brush down her spine. Somehow, this reassured her, made her feel as if she was not in this alone. It was only when the clapping died, giving way to anticipated silence that Mag felt her knees shake and her stomach bloat with fear. The zydrate was enough to prevent physical pain, but its soothing curtain over her mind had disappeared. Mag smiled wryly to herself in the darkness backstage. She was alone in this, alone as she had always been. But it would not be much longer now. Still, her stomach protested, sending waves of nausea coursing through her bowels. She feared she would faint when the lights came up, but just as she squeezed her eyes shut, begging some unknown power to spirit her away from this carnage that was her life, the music started. _Her_ music. Mag's fear persisted, but she found her lungs swelling with air, taking in oxygen as they pushed out unease.

The words flowed from her mind to her lips. Singing now was easy as breathing. The melodic sound of her famous voice rang through the air, echoing in the ears and minds of her enthralled audience. With their wide eyes and still faces, they looked almost innocent, but Mag knew that was not so. Signs of surgery marked them all as dirty and corrupted as the disgusting family who started this mess of a world.

As Mag gazed up into the air, waiting for the musical interlude to be over, she could see the Chromaggia floating spectrally above the audience like a nightmare. The long crooked beak and menacing black feathers were that of a being of evil, but the Chromaggia's eyes contained more compassion, more humanity that Mag had ever seen in a living, breathing human.

Sadness was in the eyes of the Chromaggia, but also a quiet defiance, so meager one would miss it if not looking closely. But Mag saw it and was strengthened as she turned to face the iron fence and strap into her harness for the last time.

"Chromaggia, come take these eyes," Mag's voice trilled sweetly, the audience not knowing what they would see next. Mag only saw the Chromaggia, it's wings spreading to span the width of the ceiling. It was the fatal bird she spoke to as she sang her last.

"I would rather be . . . . _blind,_" Her arms rose the same time the Chromaggia took flight, it's transparency washing over her. She felt the wind of its wings as the talons on her fingers traced up her cheek.

Now is the moment. For the last scene she would see, Mag looked down upon Pavi and Luigi, standing on the side of the stage. She smiled as she saw their eyes. They knew.

_I would rather be blind. This is for you Marni, my sister, my soul._ With a savagery she did not know she possessed, Mag plunged the lethal talons into the intruders that were her eyes. She sunk the metal far, far into her very sockets, scraping away the flesh that stood in her path. The zydrate was wearing off, but Mag didn't care. The pain she felt was washed away by the voice of the Chromaggia in her mind, sweet as a sunrise. Sparkles of color flashed before her eyes, hazing red as the blood tears that surged down her cheeks. She held the bloodied orbs in her stained fingertips now, her porcelain skin colored forever. As the blood leaked into the corner of her mouth, her heart soared in joy she had never felt before. She smiled. Her tongue tasted copper, but her smile only grew. She spread her arms to the darkness creeping into the corners of her awareness. It was not a fearsome world of mysteries anymore, but a haven of peace, of mercy . . . and _freedom_.

Her smile did not fade as she felt a jolt on her harness. The seconds passed slowly, slowly as silver, as her body reeled through the dark. When the cruel fence through her abdomen threatened to shatter her joy, she only smiled, knowing she had beaten them all. As she sank down the iron, now black with blood, her consciousness beginning to waver, she sighed. A last bubble of blood, her lifeblood, spilled out onto her chin and she thought of her goddaughter.

_Here's to your future, dearest Shilo. . ._

She died with a smile.

**One chapter to go. . . this certainly went by quickly. :-(**


	11. Epilogue

The two Largo brothers stood on the stage, looking down at their father's lifeless body. For once, both were blessedly silent. Except for the single stage light and the blue glow of the opera background, darkness surrounded them.

Finally, it was Pavi who leaned down with a soft hand to close his father's glazed eyes. He looked upon the face of the father who had hated him for the last time, not seeing any love in the dead man's features. Pavi straightened up. He did not need to look at Luigi to know he was holding back sobs of anguish. A gasp escaped the eldest Largo brother as he reined in his emotions.

"First Mag, then Pop, then Nathan. What the fuck are we doing?" No anger in his voice. Like a lost child he did not understand. But Pavi understood. He met his brother's wide eyes for a moment before glancing at the feathered corpse betrayed by the fence. Pavi strode over to the corpse, his brother at his heels.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Luigi whispered harshly, as if Mag were only asleep. Ignoring his brother, Pavi stepped right up to the body. A glistening pool of red was soaked into the feathers around the post where it intersected her tender body. Pavi leaned down and, to his brother's astonishment, plucked Mag off the fence post and sat her gently on the ground, leaning her against the fence that was her demise.

She was a gruesome sight: face painted in blood, dark, empty eye sockets staring vacantly. But most ghastly of all was the smile that had not faded from her now demonic face. Blood had leaked in between the creases of perfect teeth to finish the appearance of a demon sent from the Hell that no one believed in anymore.

Pavi took out his handkerchief, wiping the streaks of blood off Mag's face. He could not get it all. The blood around her eyes only seemed to surge forward more with each swipe of the cloth. At last, the eccentric Largo stood back to admire his work in its entirety. Lifting an elegant finger to his chin, he smiled slowly.

"A new type of art, _si? _" His scalpel winked in the dim light. Luigi's mouth dropped open.

"Are you fucking _insane?_ Get away from her, Pavi!"

But Pavi was gone from the world of Crucifixius. He had stridden into the section of his mind he saved for delightful times like these.

With the care of a mourning lover, Pavi Largo cut off the coveted face of Blind Mag as Luigi stood sputtering in the background.

Pavi held his new accessory up in the air triumphantly. Cradling it in one red hand, he leaned down to what remained of Mag's violated corpse. He ran a sensual finger along the slick, redness of her slack jaw. He smiled into the dripping, dark sockets where her eyes had been.

"It seems I will-a be adding your face to my collection after all, _bella._"


End file.
